


Gold Chains, Heavy Crowns

by Snailman, TriadicUniverse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, Captivity, Chains, Choose Your Own Adventure, Dom/sub, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Femdom, M/M, Royalty, Slavery, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailman/pseuds/Snailman, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriadicUniverse/pseuds/TriadicUniverse
Summary: Prospit and Derse had been at war for ages, long after anyone in either country truly remembered how the feud had begun. Every few years, stretches of tense peace were broken by bloody battle, and so it had been for as long as any living person could remember.It was the aftermath of one such battle, and something unthinkable had happened, something that might very well turn the tide of the war. The ruling families of Prospit and Derse each had two princes, now grown men, and all four princes had participated in the most recent spat. Usually these battles were bloodbaths with no clear winner, ending when both sides agreed upon a tentative peace. But in the last battle, one nation had emerged as the uncontested victor, and the two enemy princes had been taken as spoils of war.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Introducing Gold Chains, Heavy Crowns, a collab by yours truly and Themidir! Eventually this story will explore what would happen in the event of a Dersite and a Prospitian victory. There are some choose your own adventure elements, but only one ending for each story track. Mind the tags; there will be a happy ending, but it's a rocky road until then. More specific warnings will be in the notes of each chapter. We hope you enjoy!

Prospit and Derse had been at war for ages, long after anyone in either country truly remembered how the feud had begun. Every few years, stretches of tense peace were broken by bloody battle, and so it had been for as long as any living person could remember.  
  
It was the aftermath of one such battle, and something unthinkable had happened, something that might very well turn the tide of the war. The ruling families of Prospit and Derse each had two princes, now grown men, and all four princes had participated in the most recent spat. Usually these battles were bloodbaths with no clear winner, ending when both sides agreed upon a tentative peace. But in the last battle, one nation had emerged as the uncontested victor, and the two enemy princes had been taken as spoils of war.  
  
The captive princes knelt, now, before the throne of their enemy. Still wearing their royal colors, the two young men were bound in heavy chains, with blades pointed at their throats, utterly defeated at at the mercy of their enemy. One thing was for certain; Prospit and Derse would never be the same.  
  
The sun smiles on a new era for both kingdoms, the conquerors and the conquered. Which kingdom does this victory belong to?

[Prospit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38004938)

Derse


	2. Chapter 2

The sky shone bright over the Sunlit Court, as if the gods were smiling on Prospit’s victory. The children of Prospit had returned from the battlefield as conquering heroes, bearing with them the hopes and dreams of the nation, and a pair of prizes snatched from a defeated enemy.

Those prizes; the twin princes of Derse. Dirk and Dave were forced to kneel, swords at their throats, before the seat of Prospitian power. They had been stripped of their armor and dressed in fine Dersite violet, and each wore a circlet on his brow. It was a mockery of their station as poignant as the heavy chains binding their wrists.

Opposite them, the royal family sat proudly, clad in bright silks and ceremonial armor etched with symbols of the shining sun. There were six thrones, two for the queen and king, four for their grown grandchildren, the pride of Prospit. On the right, the eldest, Jane, and the youngest, John. On their left, Jade and Jake. The six royals observed the captives with interest, pride, and a touch of apprehension. It felt wrong to stare down Dersite warriors without a weapon in hand. Even though the two of them were chained, there was a fire in their eyes that could not be quelled.

The king rose to his feet, tall and regal even in his old age. He held out his hands, his smile familiar and welcoming, a smile that charmed his people and told them that all was well. “This is an historic day,” he said in a voice that carried throughout the grand courtyard, echoing against pillars and white marble. “Let us hope that this victory is only the first step on a path that will lead us to peace.”

His smile turned on the kneeling princes, and perhaps they imagined it, but it seemed to take on a cold edge. “The princes of Derse will be given to our grandchildren, in honor of the courage they displayed in fighting for the glory of Prospit.”

A murmur went through the crowd, as the princes and princesses of Prospit looked amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in thinly-veiled surprise. As the king’s speech drew to a close, the four of them gathered, whispering amongst themselves.

“I suppose I’ll be getting the crown prince,” Jane said. “Although I don’t need another servant. My maids are perfectly acceptable.”

“Keep a Dersite in your bedchambers?” said Jade. “He’ll slit your throat in your sleep!”

“I wouldn’t mind having one of them in my bedchambers,” Jake said.

“Its a lot more fun than throwing them in the dungeon,” said John. “And think about it! What better way to rub our victory in Derse’s face?”

As they spoke, the Dersites were hauled to their feet and led away. The crowd parted before them, cautious even though they were bound and defenseless. One of them turned to glare at the royal family, his eyes gleaming like flames in the midday light.

The captive princes walked straight and tall, stoic despite the chains around their wrists and the blades at their backs. They didn’t fight, not until they were brought to the royal suites, where the guards began to drag them in opposite directions. “What are you doing?” Dave snapped, digging his heels in and refusing to be moved. But rough hands yanked him off balance and dragged him, thrashing and protesting, away from his brother.

“Dave,” Dirk said, a warning not to lose his cool. But there was a touch of alarm in his voice that he could not fully conceal.

The princes’ combat prowess was legendary, but bound and outnumbered, they could do nothing to keep from being separated. Dave began to shout as he was forced away from his brother, cursing the guards’ ancestors back seven generations, but Dirk remained silent, his jaw clenched and shoulders tense. Two doors slammed shut, and the captive princes saw each other no more.

Which prince will we follow?

[Be Dave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38004980)

[Be Dirk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38005151)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of war and slavery


	3. Chapter 3

Dave Strider, prince of Derse, did not stop shouting until a knotted rag was bound between his teeth. That silenced him, if only because he would not bear the indignity of his words being turned into helpless grunts.  
  
A hand on his back shoved him forward, into one of the royal suites. Who these rooms belonged to, he couldn't guess. One thing he was sure of; it was too bright. Tall windows invited in the blinding Prospitian sun, to the benefit of the countless flowers and plants that called these rooms home. Vines climbed up the walls, baskets overflowing with blooms and leaves dangled from the ceiling, vividly colored flowers leaned their blossoms toward the windows, drinking in the sun's light.  
  
The windows were cracked, letting in a warm breeze, but one of the guards strode across the room to shut them before the thought of escaping that way could cross Dave's mind. It would be impossible, anyway. Dave was dragged onto a huge plush bed, his chains fastened to the headboard. He was left kneeling, his breath quickening as he realized just what the children of Prospit were expected to use him for.  
  
The seconds ticked by at a wretchedly slow pace. Dave yanked on his chains, but managed only to bruise his wrists. Gagged, he couldn't even sass the guards that stood on either side of the bed, spears at the ready. Now that seemed like overkill. No matter how dangerous Dave was on the battlefield, for the moment he was helpless as a caged bird. Even if he wasn't chained, the children of Prospit were easily a match for him. Whichever prince or princess that walked through that door could defend themselves.  
  
When Jade, second granddaughter of the king, entered the room, Dave knew that the guards were just for show.  
  
Dave narrowed his eyes, but Jade showed no sign of being intimidated. That was to be expected. She stood before the bed, flanked by an accompaniment of servants. She looked at Dave, his hands bound, his eyes burning with rage, then looked at the guards. "Leave us," she said, after a moment's consideration. The guards filed out of the room without complaint, although at least one cast a suspicious glance at Dave over their shoulder.  
  
Jade held out her arms, and her servants began to remove her armor. Her arrayment was ceremonial, rather than the sturdy, practical set she wore while killing Dersites on the battlefield. She was dressed to look like the conquering princess she was, in armor inlaid with gold and a tabard embroidered with the emblem of the Prospitian sun. Flowers were braided into her thick, dark hair. A golden cape swept from her shoulders to the floor. The cape was removed, then her belt, then her tabard. Her armor was next, unfastened piece by piece and carried away to be stored in a place of honor, until the next time the princess needed to be a symbol of strength and glory before the people of Prospit.  
  
When Jade was left in her underclothes, a soft black tunic and pants, she dismissed her servants, and they too departed from her bedchambers. The princess and the captive prince were left alone.  
  
The silence was agonizing, broken only by the rattle of Dave's chains each time he shifted. A smile spread across Jade's face.  
  
"Well!" she said. "No one saw this coming, that's for sure."  
  
Something on Dave's face must have made her laugh, a high, musical sound. "Don't look at me like that," she said. "You lost, fair and square! To the victors, the spoils and all that! But what AM I going to do with you?"  
  
Dave arched a pale eyebrow, then shifted to the side, wordlessly presenting his chained hands. Jade snorted, placing her hands on her hips. "Oh, hell no! The chains will stay right where they are! I don't trust you Dersites as far as I can throw you." Which, actually, might be rather far, judging by Jade's broad shoulders and muscular arms, as well as Dave's slight frame. Jade seemed to realize his. "Oh, you know what I mean!"  
  
It was a long shot, enough that Dave was neither surprised nor particularly disappointed. Up until now, he had clung to the hope that Dirk would mastermind some way out of this, but it was starting to sink in that, at least for now, there was nothing he could do to keep Jade from doing whatever she pleased.  
  
What did she please? It seemed Jade was just deciding that for herself. She moved over to the side of the bed, tactfully staying out of kicking range, and sat down beside Dave. In the courtyard, where Dave and Dirk had knelt before the throne of Prospit, Jade had thought of Dave as merely another defeated enemy. Now, up close and chained to her bed, it was easy to picture him as a treasure plucked from a conquered nation.  
  
He was pretty, almost upsettingly so. He was smaller than most Prospitians, but much stronger than he looked, with broad shoulders and a muscular frame. His skin was smooth and fair, dusted with freckles and doing little to hide the flush spreading across his cheeks. His hair was white-gold, and his lashes pale to match. He was one of Prospit's most deadly enemies, but up close he appeared almost delicate.  
  
Dave's eyes narrowed, glowering at her as if daring her to do something, so she did. Jade hooked her thumbs in Dave's fine trousers and dragged them downward. That impossible poker face faltered for a blissful moment, melting into surprise and embarrassment. Dave was thankful for the gag as it muffled a strangled sound, although not enough to keep the delighted grin from spreading across Jade's face.  
  
"Not so tough now, are you?" she said. Dave's expression hardened, and he averted his gaze, willing to look at anything but her teasing smile. He was taken off-guard, then, when her hand cupped his dick, giving it an experimental stroke.  
  
Dave was forced to reckon with the fact that his captor did not have an ounce of shame or hesitation in her tall, absurdly attractive body. He silently cursed whoever decided not to give him a stitch of clothing under the mockery of a prince's finery he had been dressed in. It was clear that this had been the plan from the beginning; what better way to humiliate Derse than by making their princes playthings of the Prospitian aristocracy?  
  
It could be worse; Dave could be enjoying this. Little did he know that Jade was hell-bent on making that a reality.  
  
Her hands were rough and callused, the hands of a gardener, or a warrior. The quick pace she set up had Dave squirming in seconds, his cock stiffening in her grasp.  
  
"You know, I like you a lot better like this," she said. "I'd rather have you in my bed than on the battlefield, killing my people. Maybe I should keep you here just for that, keep you chained up and harmless. Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while."  
  
Dave's breath had grown ragged, and his eyes fluttered shut of his own accord. He let out a groan, and he did not sound as upset as he had intended. Jade curled up against his side, an arm around his waist, her hand working his cock until Dave had to force himself not to thrust into her grasp. What did she get out of this? What was she trying to do? If it was to see Dave fall apart, she might just succeed.  
  
Just as Dave started to gasp for breath, his body shaking, Jade stopped. "Oh no you don't!" she said as he groaned in complaint. "You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?  
  
For a second, Dave hoped that it would, but his hopes were quickly dashed. He shook his head, as if he could regain some of his lost dignity, and schooled his expression back into a fierce glare. Jade only rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh yes, you're soooo cool and intimidating," she said. "Dave Strider, the terrifying Knight of Derse. I wonder if your people know how easy it is to make you moan?"  
  
A grin crossed her face, this one with a hungry edge. Dave swallowed thickly, wondering if her eyes were deceiving him, or if her canines really were that sharp. "If you want to cum, you're going to have to return the favor," she said. "Fair's fair!"  
  
Jade rose to her feet, stretching her arms above her head. Dave caught himself staring and jerked his head away, but Jade's smug grin burned at the edge of his vision. He continued to stubbornly look away, even as he heard the rustling of cloth and felt the bed dip under him.  
  
A strong hand fisted in his hair, and Dave was forced to look back at her. Jade sat cross-legged in front of him. The last of her garments were on the floor, and she was completely bare, save for bandages around her ribcage binding a wound from the recent battle. Dave was almost impressed, she had shown no signs of pain. Then again, he knew as well as anyone how important it was not to show one's enemy any sign of weakness, although Dave had been failing spectacularly at that since Jade got a hand around his (still hard) dick.  
  
Dave wasn't the only one enjoying themselves. Despite his best efforts, his eyes slipped downward until they settled on the curve of Jade's half-hard cock. He told himself that the drool dripping down his chin was entirely due to the gag in his mouth. The princess of Prospit had a very nice dick, was a purely scientific observation that Dave made. It was long and thick and looked like it would fit perfectly in his mouth, is a thought he definitely did not have. Either way, Dave had a feeling that he would be gagging on something else very soon.  
  
His suspicions were confirmed when Jade reached around, untying his cloth gag. He swallowed thickly when it was removed, leaving his mouth dry and tasting of cotton.  
  
Only then did he realize that he was staring. He tore his eyes away, past Jade's bare chest, her sun-kissed skin, her tempting brown nipples, up to her grinning face. Strands of her hair had escaped from her braid and spilled over her shoulders. Her smile was wide and almost sincere, just a bit lopsided, showing off buck teeth and sharp canines that Dave swore were not shaped like human teeth. The sunlight from the window turned her face a bright bronze, highlighting the warm undertones of her skin and her smile.  
  
The silence had gone on far too long, so naturally, Dave said whatever stupid shit that tumbled into his brain. "You know that was some pretty solid sword handling. Real expert shit. Hundreds were slain and fuck me that's a little on the nose. But hey if you ever want some tips I can hit you up, or even give you a hands-on demonstration, but speaking of hands I'm gonna need mine if you want an example of how a real swordsman handles shit."  
  
Jade's lips twitched in an attempt to conceal a laugh, and instead a stern expression settled on her face. "I think I know how to handle a sword without your help!" she said. "And those chains are staying right where they are. But if you're so skilled with a sword, how do you feel about swallowing one?"  
  
Dave's eyes flicked down to Jade's thick cock, and he pressed his thighs together as if that would hide the way his own dick twitched at the idea. "Sure I can whip out that party trick, but I don't just swallow anyone's sword," he said. "It would have to belong to someone super hot, like ludicrously hot, like 'please wreck me like the useless twink I am' sort of hot. Know anybody like that?"  
  
This time, Jade could not suppress a giggle. "I think I have someone in mind," she said. Her hands twined in Dave's hair, and he didn't resist as she dragged him down until his lips met the tip of her cock. He was flexible enough that he barely felt the strain. He told himself some halfhearted excuse about playing along so he could escape later, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the head of Jade's dick.  
  
This was not the first time the prince of Derse had gotten a mouthful of meat popsicle. He had a few favorite soldiers and courtiers that he invited to his bedchambers now and again, and it had left him with a clever tongue and well-trained gag reflex that now pleasured the princess of Prospit.  
  
Jade tugged on his hair, setting a demanding pace, and Dave obediently followed. An insistent voice in the back of his mind wondered why he was going along with this so easily. The simple answer? He was thinking with his dick. There was a more complicated, possibly more accurate answer that Dave didn't want to pick apart right now. At least Dirk couldn't see him now, although he shuddered to think that Dirk might be in a similar situation.  
  
It was hard to think about that for long, because then Jade was burying herself in his throat. Dave did his best to relax and swallow around her, and was rewarded by the shudder that went through her body. "Oh, fuck!" she said, her hands tight in Dave's hair, almost to the point of pain.  
  
Then her grip softened, until she was stroking through Dave's hair. "Good boy," Jade said, and now it was his turn to shudder. God damn it, he couldn't be THAT easy. He told himself that even as he bobbed his head, pulling off to swirl his tongue around the tip, making Jade arch her back, tangle a hand in her hair, close her eyes and moan until... She spilled down Dave's throat with a loud enough cry that he KNEW there were servants or guards outside the door that knew just what was going on. That didn't stop Dave from taking everything she had to give.  
  
His own dick remained hard enough it ached, trapped between his stomach and his thighs. His back was starting to hurt from his bent over position, but Jade gave him some relief in more ways than one, pushing him up on his knees and bending over to... oh, fuck.  
  
"Fuck me sideways!" Dave said as the princess of Prospit wrapped her lips around his cock. He tried to tear his eyes away from her face, looking up at him with eagerness and mischief and something almost adjacent to affection. Her hand wrapped around the base, and Jade opened her mouth, her tongue resting on her lower lip, and Dave didn't last long.  
  
Dave shuddered through his orgasm, shooting his cum over Jade's face. He didn't expect her to close her eyes and take it. He didn't expect that to make him feel even more like a favored toy. Dave's face was bright red, and he couldn't blame it all on arousal. Jade opened her eyes and licked her lips, and Dave knew that he had given her exactly what she wanted.  
  
Jade stood up and moved away to wash her face, leaving Dave shuddering in the aftermath of his orgasm. He tried to resist the urge to stare at her long legs and toned ass. He failed to resist the urge.  
  
Jade looked back and caught him staring. Dave looked away, his face roughly the color of a strawberry. Desperate to regain some measure of dignity, he twisted his face into a sneer and said, "The war would have been over ages of go if Derse knew how willing the princess of Prospit was to suck off enemy soldiers."  
  
"The only thing I do to enemy soldiers is kill them," Jade said, her voice bright and unaffected. "But I might be convinced to suck off a cute slave boy, especially when he's been so well-behaved."  
  
The conversational gambit swung back into her favor so fast Dave got whiplash, and he was left flushed and sullen, with nothing to say that wouldn't make him sound like a complete idiot. That didn't often stop him, but he was reluctant to give Jade any more leverage with which to verbally spank him. Or literally spank him. Dave silenced that thought with extreme prejudice. The last thing he needed was for a hot Prospitian to bend him over her knee and spank away the last remnants of his dignity. Bold of him to assume he had any dignity left. Goddamn Prospit and their sexy dominatrix princesses. Goddamn the chains keeping Dave as helpless as a dove. Goddamn his brother, king of Derse, for training him to be a demon on the battlefield but not preparing him to deal with an enemy that was lovely and charming and almost kind to him.  
  
Jade was laughing at him. It seemed Dave had failed to silence his unwanted thoughts, and was in fact saying them out loud. He was starting to regret not being gagged.  
  
"Thank you? I think," Jade said, a bright smile on her face. She turned back toward him, unabashed in her nudity and extremely aware of the way Dave couldn't not get an eyeful. "I think you're pretty sexy too. And tell you what, I plan to keep you right here, where you can't hurt anyone and where you can be cute and silly just for me. How does that sound?"  
  
"Fuck off," Dave said, his voice strained. It was all he could think to say without digging himself into an even deeper hole. Dirk needed to come up with an escape plan soon, because if he didn't, there would be more than a sturdy set of chains keeping him from leaving.

[==>](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38005079)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slavery, non-con, captivity  
> Tags: oral, femdom


	4. Chapter 4

A loud knock on the door spared Dave the indignity of pouting for too long. Dave sat up straight, his shoulders tense. No soldier or servant would be rude enough to pound on Jade's door like that; it could only be one of her siblings. Dread sank into Dave's stomach. One Prospitian royal was already more than the could handle; he didn't fancy dealing with two.  
  
Jade's exasperated sigh told him that his hunch was right. She threw on a clean set of bedclothes and crossed the room, opening up the door. Standing there, bright blue eyes fixed on Dave, was John, the youngest prince of Prospit.  
  
Dave tried to vanish into the bed as the two siblings chattered. He failed, but did not comprehend the depths of his failure until he heard John say, "You aren't just going to keep him all to yourself, are you?"  
  
When Dave looked at him, he recognized the expression on John's face. Those were the baby brother eyes, the same eyes that Dave wielded to make Dirk do any damn thing he wanted. John turned those eyes on Jade in full force, begging his big sister to let him borrow a favorite toy. Dave was the toy, the toy was him.  
  
"Fine!" Jade said. "But be careful! He's dangerous, for something so small."  
  
"I'll be careful," John said. "I'll keep his chains on, and I'll call the guards if he tries anything, even though I'm SURE I can handle him."  
  
Dave had the sinking feeling that John was right. John was shorter than his sister, a bit chubby, but built like a brick shithouse. John looked like he could lift the Dersite princes like dumbbells. He was much hotter than he had any right to be, and Dave couldn't even be mad at his brain for thinking that thought. At least he hadn't said it aloud, this time.  
  
Jade swept her hand toward Dave, giving John permission, and the bright grin on the young prince's face was infectious. In any other situation, Dave would have smiled right back. In this situation, he absolutely was not going to smile back. He remained stone-faced, staring John down, and trying not to wonder how easily John would break him.  
  
John grabbed his upper arm in an iron grip and holy shit, Dave maybe wasn't joking about the dumbbells thing. "Thank you, Jade!" John said, his voice a sing-song as he hauled Dave off of the bed and out of the room. Jade simply caught Dave's eye, and although she didn't speak, he knew that if he harmed John there was not a force in heaven or hell that would save him from her wrath. Dave wasn't exactly worried about John.  
  
John's room was tidy, but cozy, feeling lived-in despite the absence of clutter. It was unassuming enough that Dave, for a moment, was inexplicably put at ease. Then he caught sight of the shackles attached to each corner of the bed, and blood rushed to his face. He wondered if John had put those there just for him, or if they were just always there. He wondered which option he liked least.  
  
"Oh, they're always there," John said. Guess who had been speaking out loud again? Goddamnit. But judging by the shit-eating grin on John's face, Dave was pretty sure that wasn't true.  
  
"Whatever," he said. "Kind of redundant, don't you think? I ain't goin' anywhere, as you can see." Dave rattled his chains, and John's smile widened.  
  
"You're going on my bed, that counts as somewhere!" he said.  
  
Dave stopped in the doorway, just because he could, and because it was one of the few acts of defiance he was still capable of. John didn't miss a beat. He hefted Dave like a sack of grain and deposited him on the bed. Dave bounced once then came to a stop, landing uncomfortably on his bound arms. His poker face held firm, but he could do nothing to make his cheeks less bright red.  
  
He also couldn't stop his dick from betraying him. John's eyes flitted downward, and Dave crossed his legs, as if that would conceal his semi. It did not.  
  
"Wow," John said. "I didn't realize you were gonna be this eager to begin with. You're still shy, I get it, but there are things we can do to fix that."  
  
Don't ask what he means. Do not ask what he means. "What the hell do you mean by that?"  
  
As Dave slumped against the bed in dismay, John didn't answer. Instead he grabbed Dave's ankles and began to fasten them in the shackles at the foot of the bed. Dave started to squirm and thrash, out of the obligation to be as difficult as possible more than out of any hope of escape. He could have kicked John right in that shit-eating smile, but Jade's silent threats echoed in his mind, and he refrained. Soon, John's absurdly strong sexy hands had manhandled him into the restraints, leaving Dave entirely at his mercy.  
  
Only when the last cuff had snapped into place did Dave grow still, his breath ragged. His eyes were alight as he glared at John, although he did not expect John to be any more easily intimidated than his sister.  
  
He was correct. John's smile didn't falter, and instead widened as he eyed Dave like a delectable treat he couldn't wait to savor. Dave averted his eyes, uncomfortably aware of how delicious he must look, considering the royal Prospitians couldn't get enough of him. Looking anywhere but at John, his body jerked in surprise when those broad hands slid up his thighs, then dragged back down, nails digging in just enough to make Dave squirm.  
  
"I'm going to have SO much fun with you," John said. "But I want you to enjoy this too."  
  
Dave didn't know how he felt about that, but of course he didn't have a choice in the matter. His skin felt cold where John was no longer touching him, as he moved away from the bed to fuss with something elsewhere in the room. John produced a stone bowl, a match, and a parcel of... something. It looked like tea as John shook it into the bowl, dried leaves and petals and bits of spice. John struck the match and set the mixture ablaze, then blew out the flame, leaving only a few sparks and billowing wisps of smoke. Bowl in hand, John turned back to the bed and his captive.  
  
"Here," he said, kneeling beside Dave. This close, Dave caught a whiff of the scent seeping into the air around him, smoky and candy-sweet. He turned his head away, but John caught his chin and held him in place. "I have a pretty high tolerance for this stuff," John said. "So it doesn't do much for me. You, on the other hand..."  
  
Dave's suspicions were confirmed; it was some Prospitian drug, and although he had no idea what it did, he didn't trust himself to be impaired in John's presence. He began to thrash, but John tangled a hand in his hair and held the bowl in his face. Dave held his breath, but that backfired several seconds later when he began to gasp, inhaling deep lungfuls of the potent substance. John cooed at him like he was a favored pet, and his hand softened in Dave's hair, stroking instead of pulling.  
  
"Good boy," John said, and Dave drew in a shuddering breath. He couldn't tell immediately what the drug was meant to do, but anticipation made his skin crawl, or maybe that was John's grinning face. John lay down beside him, his body soft against Dave's, one strong arm around his waist. Dave turned his head away, but John chased him, catching his lips in a sweet kiss. Someone sighed, and Dave realized that it was him.  
  
"You're being so good," John said, his lips brushing against Dave's. "You must want this so badly."  
  
Dave's first thought was not that he didn't want this, but rather that John's eyes were the bluest he had ever seen. It took him several seconds to process what John was saying, and before he could respond, John covered his mouth with another kiss.  
  
When had Dave gotten half hard? Did it have anything to do with John's hands sliding up his thighs and squeezing his ass? Dave opened his mouth to speak, but John kept him quiet with kiss after kiss. Soon, Dave couldn't remember what he had wanted to say. John's tongue slid into his mouth, making him moan low.  
  
The kiss broke, and John's eyes glittered with delight. Dave's eyes were hazy, his pupils blown wide. John's thigh slid between his legs, pressing against his rock hard dick, and Dave made a pathetic sound. Next thing he knew, he was humping John's thigh, high pitched gasps escaping him with each roll of his hips. John encouraged this, kissing along the elegant lines of Dave's throat, as Dave tipped his head back to accommodate him.  
  
"I'm going to untie your hands now," John said. "Are you going to keep being good for me?"  
  
"John," Dave said. "Oh fuck, John!"  
  
John rolled Dave over on his front, his legs crossing at the knee. Dave kept rocking his hips, grinding his dick between his abs and the silky sheets. John groaned at the sight, giving Dave's exposed ass a quick, sharp smack. Dave yelped as the impact sent heat through him, making him shiver.  
  
The chains clicked open, one by one, but Dave didn't move. He gripped the sheets and humped the bed with mindless desperation until John grabbed him and flipped him over on his back. Dave made a mournful sound, but John licked a long line up his dick, sating him for just a moment.  
  
"Settle down, I'll give you what you want," John said. "But first let's get you out of these clothes!"  
  
Yes, Dave liked that idea. He was already pantsless, courtesy of Jade, but his fine shirt was starting to feel suffocatingly hot. He remained pliant and wanting as John unfastened the buttons of his shirt, kissing every inch of newly-exposed skin. Dave's skin felt too hot, but John's lips were blessedly cool, even as the feel of them made his dick ache. With every button undone, John slid the shirt off Dave's shoulders, and Dave felt a moment of relief before the heat sank into him once more.  
  
Only then did it finally sink in that his chains were undone, and that he was supposed to fight back. He lunged at John with heavy limbs, getting an arm around his throat. He felt John gasp, could imagine that smug smile fall from his face.  
  
John grabbed his dick, and Dave melted. His grip loosened until he was clinging to John's shoulders, his body shaking as John toyed with him.  
  
"You shouldn't have done that," John said. "Now I've got no choice but to punish you." Something told Dave that John was not particularly upset about having an opportunity to punish him.  
  
His defiance spent, he did not resist as John pressed him back onto the bed, maneuvered his arms like he was a doll, snapped his wrists into the cuffs. Dave began to squirm, but it was not an attempt to get away. His cock was harder than it had ever been in his life, red and swollen, practically begging to be played with. But the mischievous glee in John's eyes told him it would be a long time before he got what he wanted. What he needed.  
  
"Time to teach you a lesson," John said. "And I've got just the thing."  
  
Dave bit his lip to contain a plea for mercy. He knew John wouldn't listen. And perhaps something in his drug-addled mind felt that he deserved to be punished, or even look forward to it. Either way, as John crawled over him, his grin taking on a predatory edge, Dave couldn't feel anything but desperately eager.

[Be Dirk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38005151#workskin)

Or, if you've already been Dirk,

==>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: aphrodisiacs, non-con  
> Tags: bondage


	5. Chapter 5

Dirk Strider, crown prince of Derse, was dragged like a poorly trained dog on a leash into the bedchambers of his enemy. His eyes flitted around the room, searching for anything he could use to his advantage. There was deceptively little to be used as a weapon in such a peaceful setting. Tall windows invited in the midday sun, illuminating walls full of bookshelves and tidy furniture without a hint of dust. The only object that wasn't impeccably cleaned was a broad wooden desk covered in books and piles of parchment.  
  
Dirk was surprised to be allowed so near the place where the heiress of Prospit conducted her business, but he soon realized that he wouldn't be able to come any closer. He was forced to kneel on a huge plush bed, his chains attached to the headboard. He fixed one of the guards with an icy glare, purely for the pleasure of seeing a soldier of Prospit shrink away, as if he was still dangerous, but that was the only pleasure he was allowed for the moment.  
  
He waited patiently on his knees, his mind racing, mapping out as many scenarios as possible. His options were… limited. He was chained, with no company but the two guards on either side of the bed. A nasty little voice in his head whispered that Bro could have handled this situation. What would he do? Dirk could do nothing but consider who was soon to be alone with. After all, as the crown prince of Derse, it was his privilege and misfortune to be given to the Heiress Apparent.  
   
There were a few things Dirk knew for sure, after carefully studying the Prospitian royal family's tactics. Jane tended to avoid the battlefield, but he knew better than to assume that she was any less dangerous than her brutish siblings. There was Jake, who tended to toss his weapons and demand a hand to hand throw down, one he rarely lost. Jade, a nightmare with a weapon and a witch of unparalleled power. And John, Prospit's hellion, wielding a warhammer and the inhuman strength that the royal family was infamous for. Although he was familiar with Jane's tactics, he knew very little about what she was like in person, and although he would never admit it, that made him nervous.  
   
The sound of the double doors slamming open interrupted his calculations, and the lady of the hour walked in. Jane was a sight to behold, dressed in a golden gown that shimmered in the light. A crown rested in her cropped hair, not a curl out of place. Her hand clutched her skirts, as if she had power-walked all the way here from the courtyard. Dirk's eyes were drawn to her other hand, which was wrapped around her ceremonial trident. His first thought was of how to use it against her, although that remained impossible so long as he was bound.  
  
As Dirk had predicted, the guards were dismissed with a wave of the heiress's hand. They were not necessary. Dirk couldn't wriggle out of his chains, and he was willing to bet that if he did, Jane would prove a worthy opponent on her own.  
   
She looked annoyed, and Dirk was not sure whether or not that was a good sign. If he was lucky the rumors of her being the most demure and proper of the siblings would be true. He shuddered to think of what Dave was going through in the tender care of the other three. He didn't lower his guard.  
  
She strode up to stand before the bed, relaxing her stance and placing a hand on her hip, watching him expectantly. “I’ll have you know this is nearly as embarrassing for me as this must be for you," she said, although Dirk sincerely doubted it. Embarrassing didn't even begin to cut it. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to his reputation, and Dirk didn't know whether he would ever recover. "I don’t know what they expect me to do with you!” That, Dirk also doubted. He was chained to her bed, and he knew better than to expect a Prospitian royal to be some wilting violet. He arched an eyebrow, and a grimace crossed her face. Well, maybe she was sincere in finding the situation distasteful. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign... or a very, very bad one.  
  
“Isn’t this the part where you bring out the dominatrix boots and whip and tell me what a bad boy I’ve been?” He tried to keep his voice level but couldn’t conceal an edge of disgust.  
  
In lieu of an answer, she gathered her skirts and sat down on the bed beside Dirk. He could have kicked her, if he tried, but that would accomplish little except to slightly bruise her dignity and ensure his legs were tied down as well.  
  
The silence stretched on, and Jane fixed him with an intense calculating stare that Dirk was used to giving rather than receiving. Just as Dirk opened his mouth to speak, Jane reached her hand out to stroke his face. He...wasn’t sure what to make of that. Her cheeks had darkened as she brushed some of his hair behind his ear. “You Striders really are as pretty as the rumors say.” Her voice sounded reverent, but also a little sad.  
  
Dirk forgot all of his contingency plans as she gently stroked his hair. This was not something he had prepared for, and not something he had any idea how to deal with. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching away as she went to tilt his head up. He was pretty, with fair skin dusted with freckles. His white-gold hair was unstyled, falling in soft curls around his face. All that ruined the picture was the tension in his jaw, the suspicion in his eyes.  
  
She surprised him by grabbing his face to roughly turn to her. Her blue eyes were sharp and cold as they locked onto him. “Well buster I’ll have you know that you belong to me now, and I do intend to make the best of this situation. And I am not-”  
  
“You’re nothing like what they say?" Dirk said, his voice acidic. "Let me guess, I should be lucky to have been given to you and not the others?”  
  
A smile tugged at Jane's lips. Her eyes glinted mischeivously as she tilted her head toward him. “Oh, perish the thought!” She chuckled, a practiced, thoughtful sound. “Actually, I am quite used to having to share everything of mine with my siblings. Tragically, they are not nearly as careful as I am.”  
  
She dropped his face and set on the bed, her upper body turned towards him. “Now if you behave yourself this can be a mutually beneficial captive/captor relationship. Won’t that be fun?” Her words were playful, but delivered with a sneer that put Dirk on edge. He was a little scared to imagine what she had in mind, especially since she didn’t seem to plan to use him anytime soon. “I can be very sweet if you let me. And I am NOT as dull and innocent as I’m sure you’ve heard!”  
  
Dirk wasn’t entirely sure what angle to play here. Seduce her? Befriend her? She clearly wanted something from him. She also seemed to care what he thought of her. He got the feeling she cared what a lot of people thought of her. He could relate.  
  
“We can make this mutually beneficial right now.” He suggested, letting his voice go low and husky, although he could not conceal just how tense he was. "I never thought you were dull, but why don't we make you a little less innocent?" He could still see the flush creeping up her neck. She seemed to liked the sound of his voice either way. He didn't blame her; he had a sexy voice (which he knew from extensive experimentation), and it could work wonders when dropped to a low drawl and allowed to work its magic. Dirk almost let himself think that this might work, up until she clapped a hand over his mouth.  
  
“Oh shut the hell up," Jane said. "You’re not as cute and charming as you think you are!” That was a blatant lie, of course.  
  
Dirk smirked and tilted his head, freeing his mouth. “You really know how to treat a guy," he said. "I'm fucking swooning. I think I might just start spilling all of Derse's secrets right now.” Perhaps baiting her could get him into a more favorable position. If he could just figure otu what her angle was. If he could just get a single hand freed...  
  
“I’m not quite in the mood for an interrogation, darling. I also prefer more of a challenge.” A shiver went up Dirk's spine as he sensed the sincerity of that statement. She peered down her nose at him, a truly unimpressed smirk on her lips. He really was screwed. “I really ought to have Jake teach you some manners. You forget who you’re speaking too, as well as your own precarious position! I truly can’t be bothered but heavens knows Jake's been raring to go since you boys were delivered here.” She rolled her eyes--clearly fond, if a little exasperated.  
  
Jake. That could be a problem. Dirk swallowed thickly, careful not to let his nerves show on his face. He was familiar with Jake, at least from a distance. More worryingly, he was familiar with admiring Jake's handsome face during failed peace talks. He was devilishly attractive, and had the advantage of being just Dirk's type. Dirk fancied himself stoic and untouchable, but he would have problems if he found himself chained to Jake's bed.  
  
"Oh?" Jane said, and Dirk inwardly cursed, realizing that he had failed to not let his concerns show on his face. "Would you like me to hand you over to Jake for a spell? Shall I tell you exactly what he's imagined doing to you? How jealous he was once he learned you would be tied to my bed?"  
  
"Pass," Dirk said, and he was pleased with himself for keeping his voice so perfectly even, but the damage had already been done.  
  
"Fine then!" Jane said. "Let's send you on over to Jake, since you'd clearly prefer his company."  
  
Dirk should be used to Jane subverting his expectations at this point, but somehow he was not, and that was not what he had expected to hear. "Excuse me?" he said, but Jane had already stood and was holding a hand to her mouth.  
  
"Guards!" she called, demanding but not urgent. It was clear from her tone that she remained in control; this was not an emergency. The guards were there in an instant anyway, and Dirk quickly schooled his expression back into a sullen glare. "Take the prisoner to prince Jake's bedchambers, if you please." Gone was the mischief in her voice, the almost-sweetness of her teasing. Maybe she meant to sound cold for the benefit of her guards, but Dirk had a feeling that it was something else entirely.  
  
Before Dirk could wrap his mind around this new puzzle, rough hands grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. He was getting sick and tired of guards dragging him rather than letting him walk on his own two goddamn feet, but he didn't complain and risk giving the Prospitians another weakness to poke and prod at. He didn't expect any mercy anyway, not from the guards, not from Jane, and certainly not from Jake.

[==>](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38005235)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slavery


	6. Chapter 6

Dirk was growing more familiar than he would like with the halls outside the royal Prospitian bedchambers. He deliberately did not listen to the sounds coming from princess Jade's rooms. That was more than he could handle at the moment. He had a more pressing issue to worry about, and that issue, as he had been told, waited with bated breath for Dirk to be dragged in chains through his bedroom door.  
  
The guards knocked on the door, and a smooth, rich voice called for them to come in. Dirk took a deep breath. He could do this, he just had to keep his wits about him. The doors were thrown open into the blinding light of another Prospitian bedroom.  
  
And there was Jake, prince of Prospit, with a smile on his face that challenged the sun itself. Dirk's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He was doomed.  
  
"Why, did Jane chew you up and spit you out already?" Jake said. He had already stripped out of his regalia, and was left in a soft tunic and a pair of shorts that appeared shorter each time Dirk glanced at them. "Or was she kind enough to send her dear little brother a gift? And what a dandy little gift you are! Jane really is so thoughtful!"  
  
"Hardly," Dirk said, proud of himself that his voice remained even. He wondered how long that would last. He wondered if Jake knew that Jane had sent Dirk this way specifically out of spite. He wondered if Jake cared.  
  
"Oh, where are my manners?" Jake said. "Come in, make yourself comfy-cozy." After dismissing the guards, he set a hand on Dirk's back and swept him into the room. Bewildered, Dirk went along without a fight. Jake's rooms were not nearly as tidy as Jane's. The potted plants along the windowsill were hopelessly overgrown, a miniature jungle that dominated one wall. Books and maps lay open on most flat surfaces. The effect was cozy, if cluttered. At least there were several places to sit, which Jake encouraged Dirk to do. And so he did, sinking down into a chair that was soft enough that his arms didn't ache, chained behind his back.  
  
But as Dirk glanced about the room, he was most interested in the weapons; a sheathed knife on Jake's desk, a crossbow hanging by the door, A pair of swords proudly displayed on a hanging rack above his bed. If Dirk could wriggle his hands in front of him and get them on any one of those, he could escape. He could take Jake hostage and use the leverage to free Dave and himself. He could hold the blade to Jake's throat, watch his head tilt back, see the fear and arousal in his vivid green eyes...  
  
Dirk was careful not to let his eyes linger on any visible weapons, but Jake would be a fool not to suspect what was running through his mind. The sharp edge to Jake's grin told him that the prince of Prospit was no fool. "See something you like?" Jake said, and Dirk realized belatedly that he was staring not at any weapons, but at the dimples in Jake's cheeks, his slightly crooked teeth, the eager glimmer in his eyes.  
  
Dirk was not going to answer that question. He could still salvage this situation. "Do you?" he said. He already knew the answer, of course. Jake was looking at him like a starving man looked at a four-course meal fit for a prince. Dirk did a few calculations and began to privately count down the seconds until Jake threw him over his shoulder and carried him to the bed.  
  
"I won't tell a lie," Jake said, his grin never faltering. "We've taken our fair share of trinkets from defeated enemies, but never so lovely a treasure as yourself."  
  
He spoke sweetly, as if he were wooing a courtier of his own nation, rather than proclaiming his intentions to a bound prisoner. Dirk felt heat rise to his face, despite his best efforts. He needed to take control of the situation quickly.  
  
Then again, maybe this could work in his favor. Jane was far too sharp to remove Dirk's chains, but would Jake, blinded by his desires, make such a mistake? If Dirk played along, he might just find out.  
  
"Is that what I am?" Dirk said, letting his voice soften to a low croon. "A stolen treasure?"  
  
Jake's face went coppery with a lovely blush. He leaned in, bracing his hands against the armrests of Dirk's chair, boxing him in. Dirk leaned back as far as he could, but he couldn't escape the heat of Jake's body, nor could he bring himself to look away from that enchanting gaze. "Oh no," Jake said. "You're much more precious than that, aren't you?"  
  
Dirk could only pray that his gambit would work, because then Jake's hand smoothed down over his chest, and it suddenly became impossible to focus on anything else. "You're the crown prince of Derse, the symbol of Prospit's final victory. You're the finest jewel in our crown. And when you break for us, as I assure you, you will, Derse will know that there's no hope left in bloodshed, and the war will end."  
  
Dirk's face was hot, and his heartbeat felt impossibly loud. He knew that Jake meant to cow him, but instead he was reminded of all that was at stake. It wasn't just his and Dave's dignity on the line, but that of all of Derse. Bro would never forgive him for being captured on the field of battle, but if he could escape and bring back a war prize or two of his own, he might just be able to redeem himself.  
  
"If you think Derse will bend a knee because of this..." Dirk began to say, but Jake covered his mouth with one broad hand. It was the second time this had happened today. Dirk was not fond of this pattern, but he could forgive it if it meant Jake would keep looking at him like something delicious to devour.  
  
"Let's put politics aside for now," Jake said. "I'd like to enjoy my prize."  
  
The countdown was getting dangerously low. Jake released Dirk's mouth in ordered to kiss him hard, and in this, Dirk decided that indulging himself couldn't hurt. Jake was warm and sweet and tasted like mulled wine, a Prospitian brew that Dirk was unfamiliar with. Not about to be outdone, Dirk kissed back with an expertise that came from years of casual sluttery. He nipped at Jake's lower lip and licked into his mouth when he moaned. Jake's tongue curled against Dirk's, his hands cupped Dirk's face, firm but gentle, reverent.  
  
The kiss broke, and Dirk's inner countdown ticked to zero. He was right on the money. Jake braced his hands against Dirk's waist and lifted him up and over his shoulder with a level of ease that was nothing short of unfair. Dirk was small, but he wasn't light. He was pure muscle and a deadly warrior and should not be picked up and carried as easily as one would lift a kitten. Facing away from Jake, he took the opportunity to pout, although he successfully resisted the urge to squirm in the prince's grasp.  
  
Jake strode across the room, a bounce in his step, his hand resting on Dirk's thigh in a way that made him WANT to squirm. A few steps, and Jake had reached his bed. He set Dirk down with a delicacy that made Dirk's face flush with indignation.  
  
"Do you always carry a prisoner like a swooning damsel to your bed?" he said, and Jake laughed as if he had told a joke.  
  
"Why, Your Highness, you don't think I'm the type of scoundrel to mistreat a prince, do you?"  
  
Dirk didn't answer except to rattle his chains, but if Jake got the message, he pretended not to. Instead he climbed onto the bed, pressing Dirk's shoulders against the mattress and kissing him again, and Dirk didn't mind as much as he should have.  
  
"You know," Jake said, his lips brushing against Dirk's, and Dirk struggled to focus as Jake peppered kisses on his face in between words. "It occurs to me that you are woefully overdressed. Let's rectify that sorry situation, shall we?"  
  
Dirk barely had time to hope that this would involved a removal of his chains before Jake sat up, straddling his waist, then gripped his fine shirt at the collar. Dirk gasped as he realized what Jake was about to do, and then Jake did it; he flexed, tearing the garment down the middle. Dirk's erection was a hard line against his thigh, and the gleam in Jake's eye told him that he noticed.  
  
"Much better," Jake crooned, smoothing his hand down Dirk's newly-bare chest. Dirk turned his head to the side, his lips pressed into a thin line, his face bright red. It didn't help that Jake was tracing his freckles with his index finger, admiring them like constellations. That, rather than anything else, seemed more intimate than Dirk could bear. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to withstand the intensity of Jake's desire.  
  
"What's wrong, sugar plum?" Jake said. His voice had gotten even softer. His finger trailed downward toward Dirk's nipple, and his tone turned to delight. "Oh, what have we here?"  
  
He was referring, of course, to the twin silver barbells decorating Dirk's nipples, set with imperial topaz to match his eyes. Jake tugged on one, dragging a strangled gasp out of his captive plaything. Dirk had thought Jake's grin couldn't get any wider. He was wrong.  
  
"How polite of Derse to send us a gift pre-adorned," Jake said, rolling Dirk's nipples between his fingers. Dirk couldn't contain the moan that tumbled from his lips, to Jake's endless joy. "You're already such a dandy candy, but I daresay a bit of decoration suits you."  
  
Dirk was desperately fondling the short end of the banter stick. This needed to be fixed. Or did it? Maybe coming across as helpless and well-fucked would make Jake more likely to provide him an opportunity to escape, that is, if Jake didn't ruin him first.  
  
(Un)fortunately, it seemed as if Jake intended to do just that. Jake tugged and pinched Dirk's nipples until they were stiff and flushed pink. Each teasing touch went right to his dick, which was leaking a wet spot onto his trousers. A few seconds of this tease had Dirk biting back moans, and they had only just gotten started.  
  
As entertaining as Dirk's nipples were, Jake had his eyes on a finer prize. He wanted all of Dirk, the whole kit and caboodle, if you will. He wanted this prickly prince wrapped around his little finger. Most importantly, he wanted those delicious little grunts in the back of Dirk's throat to turn into wanting groans and pleas for more.  
  
Jake leaned down, pressing kisses from Dirk's nipples to his abdomen, then down to the hem of his trousers. Pressed against Dirk, Jake felt a shiver go through his body. Dread? Anticipation? Jake hoped it was the latter. He didn't give it more than a moment's thought before he yanked Dirk's pants off of him, and oh, that was a pretty sight. Dirk was stretched out beneath him, flushed from his chest to the tips of his ears. The tatters of his tunic framed his muscular chest, dusted with freckles and fine, pale hair. His thighs were spread open, like an invitation, and his cock was hard and heavy between them.  
  
"You look like you'd rather have me framed on your wall," Dirk said. "And here I was hoping you were going to fuck me."  
  
Maybe Jake had been gawking a bit, but who could blame him? His eyes lit up, however, as it sank in what Dirk had said. "Don't worry your pretty head," he said. "You're a sight, make no mistake, but I could never be content just to take a gander."  
  
Dirk let out a long-suffering sigh, and Jake couldn't tell whether or not his impatience was feigned. Jake liked to think his eagerness was sincere, and so that was what he believed. Never mind how Dirk was a captive, an enemy soldier bound up for his amusement; Jake was determined to make him see stars.  
  
Jake, kneeling between Dirk's legs, gripped Dirk's thighs and hitched them up around his hips. Dirk's expression twinged as his weight was forced onto his bound arms, and Jake's expression softened.  
  
"Oh, angel," Jake crooned. "That can't be comfortable. Let's take care of that, shall we?" He failed to notice the way Dirk's expression went perfectly even.  
  
Jake rolled Dirk over on his stomach, fetching the key to the Dersite's chains from his breast pocket. Now, he wasn't an idiot. He expected Dirk to make a bid for freedom. Jake clasped Dirk's wrist in an iron grip, one that he would struggle to break. The key clicked into the lock. Dirk was so very still.  
  
One of the cuffs unclasped from Dirk's wrist. The skin underneath was red and raw. Jake held tight to Dirk's cuffed hand like a leash, at least until Dirk kicked him in the gooseberries.  
  
Jake knew, based on reports from the battlefield, that Dirk could move like a demon when he chose. Knowing it and seeing it in person were two different things. As Jake doubled over, hands clasped between his legs, Dirk was a blur between the bed and the desk, snatching up the knife and pouncing on Jake with all the grace and skill of an assassin.  
  
For a moment, Jake expected, quite reasonably, for his life to end at the point of his own weapon. Instead, the blade slid against his throat, precise enough that Jake felt pressure but no pain. Dirk grasped his wrist and twisted it behind his back. Jake swallowed, tipping his head back onto Dirk's shoulder. The room was deathly quiet. Jake had never been so hard in his life.  
  
Dirk let go of Jake's wrist. Jake, obediently, did not move. Dirk's hand twined in Jake's hair and yanked his head back, dragging him in for a bruising kiss, one that Jake returned with a frankly inappropriate level of enthusiasm.  
  
When the kiss broke, both of them were panting; Jake's lips were parted, Dirk's fiery eyes burned with lust. He planted a hand on Jake's back and shoved forward (thoughtfully refraining from impaling him on his own knife), and when Jake caught himself he found himself on his hands and knees.  
  
Behind him, he heard Dirk move off of the bed. Jake seized his chance, leaping up and hurling himself at his rowdy captive. This resulted in him charging full speed at where Dirk had been a moment ago, overshooting his target, and slamming into the wall. Next thing he knew, Dirk's hands were on him, wrenching his arms behind his back and binding them in place with a long strip of leather that he had absolutely found by snooping, the rude motherfucker.  
  
"Not going to call for the guards?" Dirk said, and for a moment, he almost sounded nervous. Jake opened his mouth, not to call for help, thank you very much, only to have a sturdy gag fastened between his teeth. Dirk had definitely been snooping, and Jake's cheeks were now positively ruddy.  
  
Dirk had a rather strong grip for his slight frame, and that grip latched onto Jake's collar. There was a long, tense moment, as Dirk stared at the door. Jake fully expected to be dragged out into the hall, a hostage as Dirk made his grand escape.  
  
Dirk dragged him over to the bed, instead, and Jake could have danced. He knelt on the bed, glancing over his shoulder at Dirk with smouldering eyes that would make a weaker man melt where he stood. Dirk was frozen in place, his bright red flush creeping down his chest. He dropped the knife and lunged at Jake, kissing his lips around the gag and leaving red-brown bite-marks along his throat.  
  
Another shove, and Jake was face-down, ass-up on his own bed, a small, strong hand at the center of his back. He wriggled his ass enticingly, and was delighted to hear Dirk suck in a sharp gasp. Dirk dragged Jake's shorts and undergarments down past his hips in one smooth yank. Thank goodness, they were starting to get rather tight. Dirk was face-to-face, then, with the finest ass he had ever seen, toned yet perfectly plush, and Jake's dick, thick and shapely as the rest of him. Dirk could hardly be blamed for giving Jake's ass a quick, sharp smack, making the bound prince yelp.  
  
Jake peered back over his shoulder, pretending to glare; in reality he was admiring Dirk's flushed face, filled with lust that he could no longer conceal. If Jake had the use of his mouth, he would have teased Dirk for sticking around to fuck rather than making a break for it, but it was plain to both of them that Dirk wasn't going anywhere for quite some time.  
  
There was a bottle of oil in Dirk's hand--had he rummaged through every single one of Jake's toys?--but Jake couldn't bring himself to be bothered by it, especially when Dirk slicked up his fingers and circled them around his coveted pucker, his Holy Grail, however one chose to refer to it. Dirk, despite aching for it as much or more than Jake was, took his sweet time, keeping up the teasing pace until Jake was writhing and grunting before he even thought of pressing a finger inside. When he did, however, he immediately homed in on Jake's prostate, and then the bound prince was squirming for a very different reason.  
  
As much as Dirk wanted to get on with this, as much as lingering would put his tenuous chance of escape at risk, Dirk couldn't help but draw things out, stretching Jake's patience like taffy. Jake was beautiful like this, a thin sheen of sweat over lovely brown skin, his muscles shifting as he strained against his bonds, his flushed lips wrapped around the gag Dirk pilfered and used against him. The slow, agonizing pace with which Dirk circled Jake's prostate had him moaning frantically, his cock dampening the sheets beneath them, and they had only just gotten started.  
  
The grunts Jake made into his gag were starting to sound like threats rather than pleas, and Dirk was tempted to make him cum like this purely out of spite. But Jake wasn't the only one growing impatient. Dirk slipped another finger into him. Jake was tight and hot around him, and would feel like perfect bliss around his dick. Dirk might consider himself more machine than man, but in the end, he was only human.  
  
A third finger, and Jake was rocking his hips against Dirk's hand. His cock was aching and swollen, leaving a wet spot on the sheets. Every touch sent shocks of pleasure from his prostate to his dick. If he came like this, he was going to... Well, there was nothing he could do, with the way Dirk had turned the tables, and Jake was worked up enough that that thought made him shudder and moan.  
  
Fortunately, Dirk too was at the end of his patience. He pulled his fingers out of Jake, who cried out at the loss. But he quickly realized that better things were to come, and he turned those big green eyes entreatingly on Dirk. He could have cried as Dirk slicked up his cock and gripped his hips, bracing against his entrance, and...  
  
Dirk was glad for the gag, because he was sure that the way Jake howled would attract the guards. He wasn't thinking about that, however, because he was busy sinking into Jake, and it was everything he could have hoped for. Jake's everything tightened around him, muffled moans spilling from his lips, his back curling into a lovely arch. Dirk's mouth fell open, although he did his best to keep quiet, not wanting to attract undue attention. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, because he was fucking the most beautiful man he had ever seen and taking revenge on Prospit all at once and it was more than he could possibly bear.  
  
Given how extensively he had prepped Jake, Dirk had no qualms about setting up a demanding pace. Every stroke dragged his dick against Jake's prostate, and it was too much and not enough. Jake's body felt hot, his skin oversensitive; his cock swung, untouched, between his legs, and yet he found himself teetering on the edge, ready to fall.  
  
Dirk braced his hands against the bed and leaned over, his chest pressed to Jake's back. He kissed from the nape of Jake's neck to the hollow of his throat, then bit down, and then Jake was finished. His orgasm quaked through his body, leaving him boneless and sensitive, and Dirk wasn't done with him yet.  
  
The last of Dirk's self control was slipping from him. He muffled his moans against Jake's body. The Prospitian's dark skin didn't bruise as easily as his own, but Dirk was nothing if not determined. The marks he left would remain for a while yet, hopefully long after he and Dave escaped and scurried back to Derse. But Dirk wasn't thinking about that right now; he was wrapped up in the bliss on Jake's face, the tight clench around his cock, the knowledge that the Prospitian prince had rolled over for him and him alone.  
  
Dirk buried himself deep inside of Jake just as his orgasm shook him to his core, filling Jake up and leaving a mark that he would not easily forget. Dirk bit down on Jake's shoulder, driving out another desperate, muffled cry.  
  
The silence in the aftermath was dizzying, broken only by the two princes' ragged breath. Blissed half out of his mind, Dirk kissed from Jake's cheek to his lips, coaxing out a happy croon. Something told him Jake would have kissed back if he could, but there would be no testing that hypothesis. Dirk had to leave.  
  
Jake made a slow, confused sound as Dirk left the bed. Dirk ignored him. He cleaned himself up, then fetched his pants and dressed as quickly as he could. The knife lay on the ground at the foot of the bed; Dirk picked that up as well.  
  
Jake had begun to squirm. Dirk turned back to him, and the sight of him, ass in the air, cum leaking down his thighs, was almost enough to talk Dirk into another round. Almost.

[Dirk ==> Go for another round](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38005283)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slavery, dub-con  
> Tags: bondage, turning the tables


	7. Chapter 7

Fuck it, it wasn't as if the guards were pounding on the door. Dirk climbed onto the bed. The way Jake lit up made his cheeks feel hot, and he specifically did not analyze the emotions he was feeling in that moment. This was a quick and dirty blow job, nothing more.  
  
Dirk settled on the pillows at the head of the bed, dragging Jake's head into his lap. Jake immediately began to nuzzle and kiss at his cock the best he could around the gag. As cute as his enthusiasm was, Dirk wanted the real thing. Dirk reached around to the back of Jake's head and unfastened his gag.  
  
Jake sighed, stretching out his jaw. Drool coated his chin, which Dirk was not a fan of, but he was distracted as Jake mouthed lazily at his cock. Dirk slumped against the headboard, expecting Jake to get on with it without much coaxing.  
  
Instead, he heard Jake's voice. "I thought you'd be more eager to get a wiggle on," he said. "But I think I see what's cooking."  
  
Dirk opened his eyes, a frown on his face. "Just what do you mean by that?"  
  
Jake looked up at him with hooded eyes, Dirk's cock pressed against his cheek. His lips were curled into a knowing little smile. "I've got your number, chickpea," he said. "Snatched up like a pretty token, delivered into enemy hands, one couldn't blame you for being a tad unstrung. But that's not what's got you so frazzled, is it?"  
  
Dirk didn't like where this was going, but for some reason, he didn't shut Jake up--as tempting as that was. His cock was right there, and Jake's mouth was right there, and yet he allowed Jake to keep talking.  
  
"I know a thing or two about your brother," Jake said. "The Mad King of Derse. I'm sure he's beside himself, having lost you two, and something tells me he's not all that chuffed with you for getting yourself nabbed! What would he think of you if you did return, I wonder?"  
  
He did not quite get to finish his question, because Dirk yanked on his hair and shoved his dick into Jake's stupid, clever, charming mouth. Jake's words were replaced by downright filthy sounds as he worked on Dirk's cock, hollowing his cheeks and sucking like it was his favorite treat. Dirk tilted his head back and groaned, lost in the feeling of Jake's mouth around his dick, that clever tongue put to better use pleasuring him. Jake pulled off with a lewd pop and kissed a trail from Dirk's balls to the tip, and Dirk was so busy enjoying himself he was taken off guard when Jake began to speak again.  
  
"Isn't this so much better?" he said. "Wouldn't you rather be treated like a treasure than face whatever awaits you back home? If you have to face the consequences of your failure either way, methinks the former seem more palatable, don't you think?"  
  
In lieu of an answer, Dirk dragged Jake so far down on his dick that he coughed and gagged. Cruel satisfaction mixed with a twinge of guilt. Jake didn't seem bothered, however; he quickly regained his wits and began to bob his head, relaxing his throat and taking Dirk even deeper.  
  
Dirk didn't let Jake speak again, and Jake didn't try. He remained pliant and cooperative, letting Dirk fuck his throat as he pleased. This couldn't be his first time doing this. Dirk imagined the prince of Prospit whoring himself out, practicing on Prospitian soldiers until he was a world-class cocksucker. He imagined what might have happened if the battle had gone differently, Jake bound in heavy chains while Dersite warriors had their way. He imagined Jake dragged back as a prize for the Dersite crown, presented to Dirk as spoils of war. Maybe things wouldn't be so different between them. Dirk came to thoughts of Jake, bound for his pleasure, worshipping his cock, bending over for him at his command...  
  
Dirk pulled out at the last second in order to spill over Jake's face, his cum bright against Jake's dark skin. Jake met his gaze with hooded eyes and licked a drop of cum off his upper lip, and it took all of Dirk's self-control not to melt into a puddle just for him.  
  
"Are you satisfied?" Jake said. Dirk forced his expression into something more neutral, something appropriately aloof.  
  
"Quite," he said. "Get off of me."  
  
Jake obediently rolled over on his side, and Dirk stood up on shaky legs. He had dawdled long enough. Despite Jake's teasing, he very much wanted to return home.  
  
Maybe want was a strong word. But he needed to return to Derse. More importantly, Derse needed him. Dirk's one act of mercy was to wipe the cum off of Jake's face before hauling him to his feet.  
  
The sound Jake made could be roughly described as "Mmmhhr?" Dirk pretended he didn't hear. He unlocked the door. Steeled his nerves. Opened the door. Dragged Jake out into the hall.  
  
The Prospitian guards leaped to attention, only to see their prince, bound, half-naked, held at knifepoint by Prospit's most important and (arguably) deadliest prisoner. Jake, at least, had the courtesy to look embarrassed. Dirk, stone-faced, turned his fiery gaze on the highest-ranking guard present. "Bring me my brother," he demanded. The blade of his knife slid against Jake's throat. Those who listened closely would hear the prince of Prospit let out a truly inappropriate moan. Dirk pretended not to hear. "Now."

[Be Dave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254815/chapters/38004980#workskin)

Or, if you've already been Dave

==>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: knives, hostage situation  
> Tags: bondage, oral


End file.
